


Faith in the Fall

by ambivalentangst



Series: Into His Fold [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gaslighting, Gen, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 15:10:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18471490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambivalentangst/pseuds/ambivalentangst
Summary: Tony tells him Thanos is gone, tells him he can sleep, tells him nothing else is going to hurt him. Peter sees a red stone in his mind’s eye and is working on believing him.





	Faith in the Fall

Peter laid out on his bed in the compound, limbs spread, eyes on the ceiling. Tony said he would prefer if he stayed with him, just to be safe. That Peter was still too unstable for comfort went unsaid. Even May agreed, and she fought Tony about everything.  


(Thanos never let Peter see May in one of his illusions before. She was one of the biggest cracks in the mirage Thanos was teasing Peter with, but he wasn’t going to crack. Having May and Tony was too good to lose because he was irresponsible.)

The bed was the latest of Tony’s increasingly overt attempts to get Peter to sleep.

_“Hey, bud, why don’t you go lay down for a while?”_

He never said sleep, sure, but Thanos never came out with what he meant either. It was all a matter of subtext and tone, walking a fine line between implications and outright command.

(He would not, could not sleep because he hadn’t been given permission.)

There came a knock at the door, and automatically, Peter was up, on his feet and standing at attention. 

“It’s open.”

Peter wondered who it was. Probably May, conspiring with Tony. Thanos knew how much he loved them. It’d make sense if that was how he whittled Peter’s resolve down, one small comfort after another. He braced himself, preparing for her gentle smile, the way she’d sit with him, a situation he could remove himself from easily.

The element of control Peter had was dangerous because it made him want to relax and he just _couldn’t._

It wasn’t May. No, Peter watched Bucky walk through the door instead, his metal hand on the knob.

“Hey,” he greeted casually. “Steve says he won’t spar with me again, and Nat’s doing her own thing. I could use an enhanced to go up against. I’ve been sitting around for days.” Bucky sounded annoyed, and Peter jumped at the chance to escape the placidity of his room.

“Yeah, sure thing. I’ll meet you there.” 

The presence of the other Avengers was another crack. Why would Thanos dream up the relationships they tried to foster with him, the way they looked at each other when Peter said something wrong? Peter couldn’t figure it out, but he supposed it was another thing that Thanos could hurt him by taking away.

Peter liked Bucky. For whatever reason, he saw Peter and didn’t leave him alone. He was casual, a friend that never mentioned all of Peter’s sharp edges.

Peter grabbed his armor and went to the bathroom. Tony had suggested—firmly—that he take it off in his room.

“It’s a good starting place. Not even Cap wears the spangles to bed,” he’d pointed out, holding out a t-shirt and pajama pants for Peter to take instead.

Peter gave himself the small comfort of normal clothing, but not for long. Thanos had given him the armor, and he wore it in every other situation. The black fit him like a second skin, like his suits had before Thanos tore them apart and made Peter watch. The sting was undeniable, but their destruction had been the least of Peter’s problems. He didn’t wear a mask anymore, and he walked with his head high to the training room.

Tony still hadn’t let him in, so it was nice that Bucky was. If he wasn’t lying around, it was easier to stay awake. He didn’t see anybody else, and as he came to stand by Bucky, he realized what the emptiness felt like.

Thanos didn’t like his training to be a spectacle. It was the end product he flaunted, the prized blade of his armory that cut through anything—or anyone—in its way. It was Peter, the challenger, and him.

Peter felt his breath catch and his excitement deflate, but he didn’t back down, didn’t show that anything was amiss. He didn’t want to hurt Bucky, but that was what Thanos wanted, wasn’t it? Maybe if he did this right, the illusion would finally fall away, and Thanos would be satisfied. Maybe it was a test of his loyalties. Maybe it was Thanos putting someone Peter cared about in his line of fire and saying _show me that you’re still mine_.

Peter couldn’t stand the knife hovering above his neck. He needed things to go back to normal because the longer Thanos indulged him, the more painful the concept of it all disappearing became.

“You ready?” asked Bucky, a few paces away as he settled into his stance.

Peter nodded. He remained standing. It was always easier to let them come to him.

He waited, and Bucky was at his side in an instant, a blur of silver and black. Peter felt the base of his spine crackle in alarm, and he ducked as Bucky’s arm flew over the space he’d just been standing in, rolling but not putting distance between the two of them. He didn’t have any weapons on him, but neither did Bucky. At the very least, they were evenly matched. Peter’s fights weren’t always so fair.

He swung his legs into Bucky’s as he dropped, sending him onto his back while Peter went to pounce. Bucky’s hands came up, shoving roughly into Peter’s falling chest and sending him flying. Peter twisted to allow himself to land on the wall, using it as a springboard to jump back and onto Bucky.

He latched on but couldn’t bring himself to go for the neck, not until Bucky, giving up on prying him off quickly, dropped onto the ground and crushed Peter beneath him with the sheer weight of his body.

Bucky gave a wheeze of laughter, seemingly amused by the absurdity of his own move.

_Panic._

Thanos didn’t like when Peter took too long. He was to be efficient, lethal, ruthless. He wasn’t doing so hot at any of those. Peter scrambled out from under Bucky, shoving him to the side and coming to straddle his chest, hands scrabbling for his neck.

“Goddamn you, kid,” he groaned, working to push Peter off of him. He didn’t get that Peter was going in for the kill. Peter knew he should just snap his neck and be done with it, but this was Bucky. He couldn’t—he’d been kind to him, even if everything was just a dream, and to his horror, tears rose to his eyes.

_No, no, no. Thanos would make him—no! Peter had to get it under control before he got more people killed._

He blinked frantically, tightening his hold.

“Alright, that’s enough—I yield,” Bucky gasped out, swatting playfully at Peter’s chokehold.

Peter pressed his lips together and didn’t relent. He was being risky by apologizing, but it was _Bucky_ , not an alien Peter had never seen before. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “He’ll get—Father will be mad. You have to understand, he’ll hurt May or Mr. Stark. You—I’m so _sorry_.” His voice cracked, another dangerous stumble. Maybe Thanos would let it go.

He was doing what he wanted, after all, killing a friend.

Bucky suddenly lost his sense of humor.

“Kid, what are you going on about?” Peter blinked a few more times, but it wasn’t fast enough to stop a tear from slipping out, dampening his lashes. He didn’t trust his own voice.

He couldn’t end it, couldn’t bring himself to not even give Bucky a fighting chance.

Peter stared down at his rapidly purpling face and thought of the children who’d tried to run from him. He thought of one of Thanos’ commanders, who Peter killed because he’d dared to ask why a child was put in charge of his men. He thought of that first throne room, breaking a king’s bones one by one until he and his mangled body surrendered.

Thanos had never let him choose his own path, and Bucky was no exception.

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” Peter whispered again and knew it wasn’t enough, just like it would never remake the families he’d torn apart or the planets he’d left to die.

Bucky might’ve answered and someone might’ve finally come to stop Peter, but Peter was lost to the yellow clouding his vision and how he wished there was someone who could save him instead.

* * *

Peter found himself in restraints, which was different. Thanos normally didn’t bother with those, not when he could simply ball his fist and have Peter screaming. He did his best to remain calm. He’d done it, hadn’t he? His memory of the end was hazy, but Peter never failed, not when he knew the consequences.

(Blood staining the floor, his feet, his hands, his _face_.)

Peter counted to ten. Where there could not be tears, he still had to find ways to remain calm. He could not afford the hysteria tearing through his head, spitting and wailing its griefHe was up to seven on his second run through when Natasha, Wanda, and Tony walked in. He could hear their footsteps and instinctively tried to straighten up, only to have his back forced down, his wrists kept on the metal table.

“How you doing?” Tony asked, voice low.

“I’m fine,” Peter replied.

(He was not fine. He—Bucky was—)

Thanos wouldn’t stand for weakness. He must’ve been entering the last stage of the test, Peter thought. Thanos was just waiting to see how he coped with the death and then everything would give. He kept careful watch of his hands. They tended to clench, one of the tells left after—

Peter had issues directly confronting what he’d done in his training.

Natasha had her widow bites on her, Peter noted. Wanda looked tense, and Tony unsure. “How’s Bucky?” His voice came out tonelessly, not directed at any one of them in particular.

He needed someone to shove it in his face, force his head underwater to gag on his own monstrosity. Somebody had to give him what he deserved, right?

Natasha picked the question up, gaze cool. “Healing. Wanna’ explain what happened back there? Barnes said you guys were just sparring, and you lost it.”

Peter blinked. The ceiling was as dull as the rest of the room, but it was a welcome sight in comparison to the strained, wary faces surrounding him.

“It was a test,” he explained. “Father needed to see that I’ll still do what he wants.” Then, hesitantly, “Bucky’s alive?”

Tony nodded, swallowing. “FRI called when you didn’t let up. Steve got you off him.”

Peter felt something cold wash over him. 

_He’d failed._

He was going to be punished. He braced himself, breathing in deeply. This was the big mistake Thanos had been waiting for. Any second now the world would go red and he’d be there, but Peter waited and waited and nothing happened. The breath came back out, long, and when it was gone, Peter felt lightheaded.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Peter said, frustrated. “It—things should be gone by now.”

“Pete—” Tony started. A quick, confused glance around saw Wanda’s fingers glowing, red darting between them. Peter didn’t doubt that she was in his head, picking it apart to find what she wanted. She was more subtle than Thanos, who crashed through his mind with the pounding of church bells, announcing his presence and sending Peter to his knees.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Peter repeated. “Before—it was always whenever I messed up. Father wanted me to kill Bucky, and I tried, but I didn’t do it, so why am I still here?” The words poured out of him.

Peter thought of watching Earth come apart, seeing Tony hurt, watching his rescue fail.

“He doesn’t think it’s real,” Wanda murmured. “Thanos—he used the reality stone too much. He thinks all of this is fake. He’s serious about thinking he had to kill Barnes. Thanos has made him before.”

Peter was scared of Thanos, but he was more scared of Wanda seeing what he’d done. She was too strong. She’d see and tell Tony, and Tony would tell May, and they’d both hate him.

Peter deserved it, knew he did, but he wasn’t sure he could take it if Tony and May didn’t want him anymore. If they didn’t, the only person who did was—

_(“I’m not your kid.”_

_“You weren’t before.”)_

“Get out,” he pleaded with Wanda. “Don’t look.” His voice wavered—another strike.

Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, ignoring him. “He’s convinced Thanos will take all of this away, and he’ll have to—oh my _god_ , Stark—”

She wasn’t listening, and she’d seen. That was what Thanos wanted, wasn’t it? He’d make sure Peter knew that everyone he had left hated him, and then he’d let this go.

Peter couldn’t handle that.

“Get _out_!” Peter screamed, trying to break free of his restraints. When they didn’t move, he changed his strategy, bracing himself for the pain of broken bones as he tried to slip his hands out of them instead. He didn’t want her to see the faces that haunted him, weapons snapped like twigs under his hands, the screams of parents and children reaching for one another.

“That’s enough,” Tony snapped, coming forward after a sharp glance Wanda’s way. “FRI, restraints.”

Peter was still trying to lock his head down when he found Tony’s hands on his wrists. He met his eyes, frantic. “I didn’t—please, I didn’t want to—” He couldn’t catch his breath, and Tony looked sad as he stared down at him. “Please believe me. Don’t hate me. Don’t tell May.”

Tony hushed him, and Peter saw the women retreating, Wanda’s holding tight to the support Natasha offered. “Hey, _hey_. I don’t hate you. Nobody does.” He reached forward, brushing some of Peter’s hair out of his face in an attempt to calm his mania.

Peter shook his head, barrelling on. “You don’t get it,” he murmured. “It always _feels_ real, except I always mess up, and that’s when Father lets me know it’s not. I don’t know what he wants. It’s never gone on like this.” Peter was rambling, but he couldn’t make the words stop. Tony was right there, and he’d _been_ there for days, weeks. It’d never taken this long before. “Father always shoots you down before you can rescue me, but now May’s here, and so is everyone else. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Tony brought Peter close as he opened his mouth to reply, but Peter wasn’t finished.

“And now Wanda looked, and she’s going to tell you and May, and neither of you will want me anymore.” Peter’s head was buzzing, his instincts screaming _danger_ every second he allowed himself to lose control. Tony was holding him, but his touch felt like something—someone—else, his embrace tighter, a confine that Peter didn’t dare break free of.

“We’re never going to leave you,” Tony muttered, his hand rubbing circles into Peter’s back. “This is real, and we’re never going to hate you either.” When Peter said nothing, his voice came again, lower. “I’ve got you.”

Peter’s fingers clenched in the fabric of his shirt, grateful that it was softer than armor. After a moment, he managed to find his voice as he shook his head, adamant.  “I don’t think you want me. If this is real—”

Peter couldn’t bring himself to finish.

_If it was real, then who was Tony holding? What was left of the Peter before Thanos?_

“Bucky’s alive?” His words were scarcely a whisper, and he flinched upon thinking of what Thanos would say about that.

Tony nodded. Peter thought he was trying to pull back, but he didn’t let him. He was terrified that his face wouldn’t be human when he looked, that suddenly the comfort would sicken him. “Yeah. He should be out of medical by now, actually. You wanna’ see him?”

Peter shook his head. “No, I’m good.” He felt his heart pound against his chest, and he closed his eyes to the memories that threatened to overwhelm him, the praise Thanos lavished on him for a wicked job well done. If Bucky was any different than before Peter had hurt him, he wasn’t prepared to take that.

Tony’s fingers threaded through Peter’s hair in the silence that followed. “That’s okay. That’s—” Even Tony had to suck in a breath. “—that’s fine. I want you, kid. No matter what happened, you’re stuck with me.”

Peter felt hot tears prick his eyes, and he screwed them shut to keep them back. That wasn’t allowed, none of it. No tears, no emotions—why couldn’t he ever learn a simple lesson? He berated himself for narrowly avoiding punishment, but rescue had never been so plainly full of _love_ before.

(It was new, not hesitating to put Tony and _love_ near each other, but Peter was new too, for better or for worse.)

“I want this to be real,” he muttered, eyes still closed as Tony guided him to the ground. In the wake of his panic, there was only exhaustion, and Peter sighed in relief as he was permitted to sit.

“This _is_ real,” Tony promised, but he sounded pained.

_(“I’ll be the son you wanted, Father. Just let him live.”)_

Peter felt something like hope flicker in his chest, something he wasn’t willing to crush should he allow himself to look at who had him in their arms.

“I’m tired,” Peter mumbled, an admission he could hardly bring himself to make.

“That’s okay,” someone Peter hoped was Tony replied.

Thanos would have tempted him all the same, but more than staying awake, Peter was tired of fighting the chance that maybe, just maybe, he’d still be safe come morning.

He didn’t respond, choosing to surrender to the heaviness in his limbs. 

(It was odd, giving in without the push of the stones.)

When Tony felt his head loll, he was surprised, but not displeased. Peter had let go for the possibility of being caught, and Tony figured that was as good a start as any.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m,, honestly floored?? I’ve been working on this series for nearly a year now and my goal was to have it completed before the release of Endgame, and I’m so glad I was able to meet it.
> 
> This last part kicked my ass to write, but I’m satisfied with where the series leaves off and how it leaves Peter—starting to heal. I imagined this going very differently than what happened in the final product, and I’m sorry it took so long! If it makes you feel any better, I have more cut from this than what went into the final product.
> 
> This concludes the main series, but due to the amount of content that I wasn’t able to include, when I have the time, a fic of cut scenes within this universe isn’t out of the question! I have plenty more ideas about the events in this series, but I can’t make any promises right now about those coming to fruition.
> 
> Finally, thank you to anyone and everyone that has read this; I know I say this a lot, but it really does mean the world. I could’ve and would’ve never done all this without your support, and I can’t thank you enough. <3
> 
> As always, if you want to come yell at me about this au or anything else, I have a Marvel-only blog that can be found [here!](https://ambivalentmarvel.tumblr.com)


End file.
